


Smooth and Slow

by Nibel



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Coming Untouched, Community: FFXV_Kinkmeme, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't copy to another site, Heavy Petting, M/M, Praise Kink, Prompt Fill, Self Confidence Issues, Subspace, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 05:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17595599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nibel/pseuds/Nibel
Summary: From a request on theffxv-kinkmeme.Prompto finds himself in a situation that he's ill-equipped—and disinclined—to handle; Ignis is supposed to be the voice of reason, but stopping seems to be the last thing on his mind.





	Smooth and Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to the anon who requested this particular prompt; the moment I read it, I _knew_ I had to write it. Plus, it's my first fic under my new pseud—hopefully the first of the many, _many_ WIPs I have. Enjoy!

“All right, I think that’s my cue.”

Prompto started, not even realizing he’d been falling asleep until the deep rumble of Gladio’s voice roused him. He blinked, then remembered his phone, still gripped in his hand. He was unsurprised to see that his character had died and could only _hope_  Noctis hadn’t grinded too far ahead of him.

Noctis, when he looked up, was passed out, so luck was probably still on his side. He looked far too peaceful for someone who was asleep on the floor when there was a perfectly good bed not three feet away, but that was pretty much Noct in a nutshell.

Gladio levered himself up, breaking the little triangle they’d formed on the ground when they’d all been sucked into playing King’s Knight. He walked over to Noctis and nudged him with a boot.

“Wake up, Prince Charmless. At least sleep in the bed.”

Noctis barely stirred. When Gladio prodded him again, he frowned and lifted an arm, batting at the air vaguely before it fell back to the carpet. A moment later, quiet snores could be heard.

“Honestly. You of all people should know better by now.”

Prompto started again, realizing the warm pillow he was resting against wasn’t a pillow at all, but Ignis’s leg. Belatedly, Prompto remembered leaning against the armchair when he’d complained about his back hurting from all the hunching, and how Ignis had silently and magnanimously allowed him to settle between his legs while he wrote something down in that little notebook he always seemed to carry.

Well, he hadn’t said anything about it yet...Prompto yawned, then let his head fall back down. He didn’t even _want_ to know what time it was.

Chuckling, Gladio agreed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Gladio tilted his head back and forth, cracked his neck, then knelt with a sigh. He gathered Noctis in his arms and lifted him effortlessly, like he was picking up a pillow instead of a grown man. He turned towards the door.

“Do you have your room key?” Ignis asked.

“Yup. ‘Night, Ignis. ‘Night Prompto.”

“Night,” Prompto called.

“Good night,” Ignis answered.

The door clicked shut softly, and then it was just the two of them. Prompto knew he needed to get up, to shower and take advantage of getting a bed to himself while he could, but he was _so_ tired and _so_ comfortable.

“I’ll get up in a minute,” Prompto muttered, before Ignis could nag at him. Although, in this case, Ignis really had every right to nag since he was holding Ignis hostage with his laziness. But if push came to shove, Ignis could extricate himself, no problem. “Just...just give me a second.”

“By all means. I'd hate to disturb you.” Ignis said dryly, and though he sounded sarcastic, there was no disguising the drowsiness in his own voice. The sound of it made Prompto smile, even with his eyes closed. Something about stern, unflappable Iggy being sleepy was funny for some reason. Must have been the late hour. Everything seemed funny late at night. "Try not to nod off  _on_ me, at least."

“‘Course not,” Prompto said around a yawn, letting his phone slip out of his grip so that he could stretch his arms. They fell back into his lap limply when he was done and he didn’t feel inclined to move them. “‘M wide awake.”

“Indeed,” Ignis replied, but then he yawned and any censure he had lost its bite.

Silence settled over them like a familiar, cozy blanket. They probably looked like idiots, heads nodding, blinking into the middle distance and stubbornly trying to stay awake. Prompto smothered another yawn and his blinks stretched into long seconds of time.

_Okay...okay. It’s been a second. I need to get up. Iggy’s gonna get annoyed._

But the motivation simply wasn’t there. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he was _way_ too comfortable right then. He figured once Ignis pushed him aside so he could get up, he’d feel the urge to finally move.

"And what's this?"

Prompto stirred, all but dozing off in Ignis's lap. Before he could move, or finish the inquisitive noise he'd made at the quiet question, a touch made him freeze completely.

He could feel the tug of his shirt being tugged down at the collar, of a thumb sweeping across his skin in a warm, light stroke.

The drowsiness abandoned him completely, replaced by an almost painful hyper-focus on the touch. He couldn't have spoken if he wanted to. He held his breath, deciding he'd start thinking again once the touch went away.

But it didn't. The pressure firmed infinitesimally and with it came a twinge of pain.

"Prompto," Ignis started, his voice soft in the quiet, "Where did this bruise come from?"

Bruise? Prompto's brows drew together as he thought. It didn't take long for the memory to resurface, and when it did he sagged a bit, resting his forehead on the inside of Ignis' thigh.

 _"Mm_...coeurls, I think?" Talking was becoming a struggle, the effort of stringing thoughts together and giving them voice growing increasingly _exhausting_. "Didn't get to cover in time. Knocked me over. Hit a tree."

"I see."

It would have been perfectly natural for Ignis to stop there, to dismiss the injury now that he knew the cause, and for both of them to actually get up and get some _rest._

But Ignis seemed to be in a...weird mood tonight. Contemplative. Prompto understood it, in a way. It was how he felt now, hovering between awake and asleep, the world warm and fuzzy and distant, mercifully quiet and he finally had a moment to stop and _breathe._

Sleep-drunk, his mom called it, when he'd tried to wait up for her after one of her usual late shifts. She'd said back then there wasn’t a cuter kid in the world, mumbling half-formed sentences that had no point, pliable and drowsy but clawing at consciousness just for a chance to see her.

Ignis's finger lifted, but before he could miss the touch, the feel of his palms across the back of his shoulders, massaging the ache, more than made up for the momentary loss.

"Why didn't you ask for a potion?"

Prompto's eyes fluttered and it took everything in him not to shiver, suddenly terrified that if he moved too much or spoke too loud, Ignis would come to his senses and push Prompto away. Not that he wouldn't deserve it, but, still...he couldn't think of a single time in his life he'd ever been touch liked this. The last thing he wanted was to end it.

"Didn't...didn't seem worth it," he whispered, eyes unfocused with every press of those warm hands to his skin. Ignis moved in slow, measured movements, but his reach was slowly getting wider, sweeping from the bruise to the top of his shoulders and back again in wonderful, steady caresses. Prompto never wanted to move again. "Didn't wanna waste supplies."

Ignis made a slight sound, a chastisement. "Perhaps next time you will allow _me_ to make that call. I wouldn't have any of you in pain unnecessarily."

Ignis could have asked him to open a vein and bleed out on the cheap motel carpet and he would have agreed, as long as it meant he wouldn't stop _touching_ him. _Happily_.

"Yeah," Prompto breathed. "Okay."

As nice as the moment was, basking in the soothing touch, feeling something warm slowly radiate throughout his body from the addictive touch, it was inevitable that Prompto would do something to ruin it.

In one of his sweeps across Prompto's shoulders, Ignis' hand strayed a little too far in. His fingers brushed against the side of Prompto's neck and Prompto gave a quiet gasp, feeling his face flush.

Ignis went absolutely still, clearly surprised, and probably only realizing now the position they were in; Prompto, between his legs, letting Ignis pet him like some kind of freak.

Prompto bit his lip, flushing again, but this time in shame. What was _wrong_ with him? Someone offers him a kind, lingering touch for the first time in— _ever,_ and then he goes and makes it weird. He didn't know how he was going to look Ignis in the eye _ever_ again.

Ignis's hand lifted and Prompto decided he would feign a deeper drowsiness, so that when Ignis pushed him away he could pretend he was out of it—or at least more so. It would still be awkward, but their friendship could still be salvaged, at least.

So prepared for rejection, he didn't have a _chance_ at smothering the next gasp that left him when Ignis's hands came back, this time almost blazing with heat, absent of their gloves.

The gasp sounded loud in the quiet, embarrassing, but Prompto still didn't move away. Ignis caressed his shoulders once more, then swept up to his neck, rubbing the sides, but then one palm slipped around it and to the front, warm and sure, but without much pressure. It felt like a pantomime of a chokehold and the sheer intimacy of the touch had Prompto flushing again and biting his lip against the electric feeling shooting through him.

Ignis's other hand slipped down his arm, rubbing up and down the exposed skin, tracing over the slight dips and curves of muscle.

Ignis leaned closer and the heat of him was like a brand against the length of his back. His voice was warm and low in his ear when he spoke.

"Prompto, do you like this?"

As if there was a doubt Prompto could _possibly_ miss his meaning, Ignis rubbed his hand across and around his neck, fingertips aching light over his pulse.

Prompto swallowed, knowing that Ignis would feel it, and shivered. He wanted to nod, but Ignis held him captive.

"...y-yes," he whispered, eyes half-lidded, feeling a different kind of drunk from the soothing warmth that radiated from different places all over his body, all where he touched Ignis.

Ignis didn't say anything for a long moment, and Prompto didn't dare look at him. His heart was beating fast, fast enough he was surprised it didn't leap right out of his chest.

He licked his dry lips. "...Sorry."

Ignis twitched, then moved, resuming his careful stroking.

"No need," Ignis assured him. The hand on his arm strayed down his side, passing up and down once, twice, before slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt for delicious, _wonderful_ direct contact, skin to skin. "I was just taken by surprise. I'm hardly upset."

His words soothed Prompto as much as they confused him. For one, he didn't even understand what was _happening,_ but at the same time Ignis had just assured him this was okay. The moment would never come when he realized he was touching Prompto and pushed him away. He wasn't going to stop.

Prompto didn't really understand what Ignis was getting out of this, but—he was a selfish person. Double-checking that this was really okay was the last thing he wanted to do. He only wanted to take as much as Ignis was willing to give.

The hand underneath his shirt didn't move, only stayed glued to his side, thumb caressing rhythmically, palm hot on his kin. Long legs bracketed Prompto in and, guided by the touch on his neck, moved his head from resting against Ignis's thigh to his stomach.

Prompto didn't resist any of the gentle coaxing, content to let Ignis move him however he wanted, addicted to his touch.

Prompto couldn't say how long they stayed like that—Ignis, lulling his body into deeper and deeper states of relaxation, and him, slowly but surely letting that fuzzy, mindless sensation grow so that he was only vague thoughts and feelings, lulled into a dreamlike state the longer he was under those careful ministrations. Ignis didn't speak and Prompto's own tongue felt heavy and clumsy in his mouth, so even if he had the means to form a coherent thought, he couldn't have been able to voice it anyway.

As time stretched, Prompto had been ignoring the _other_ warm feeling that had been coursing through him, the one that radiated down his spine and pulsed somewhere distinctly south. But then Ignis carded his fingers up over the nape of his neck, through his hair, and then gripped him there—firmly, lightly. He tugged, Prompto's head fell back, and his mouth fell open.

Prompto gasped, eyes fluttering, and for the first time since it all began, he found himself looking directly into Ignis' eyes.

Ignis looked—Prompto couldn't pin it completely. His eyes were laser-sharp and hooded, drinking in Prompto's expression, a little color high on his cheeks.

The way Ignis watched him—it made that warm feeling more intense, more piercing than before.

Flushed, mouth open, all but panting—not to mention the unmistakable tent in his pants—Prompto couldn't imagine that he looked anything more than embarrassing, but there was nothing mocking about the way Ignis was looking at him.

"Look at you," he said, his voice something low and dark. Prompto wanted to sink into the sound and never resurface.

Ignis pulled on his hair again—just a light tug, _miles_ away from pain—and Prompto let out another one of those gasps, the sound coming out against his will, pleasure licking down his spine.

The pupils of Ignis's eyes were completely blown.

"Exquisite," he muttered.

Ignis leaned down and placed a soft, lingering kiss at his temple and Prompto couldn't control the shiver that racked him at the touch. His lips parted and a quiet sound left him, half-whine, half-gasp.

 _"Shh,"_ Ignis soothed, the hand at his side slipping out from under his shirt to rub his arm. "It's all right. I have you."

Prompto swallowed, quickly feeling the situation slipping out of his control—control that he was beginning to realize he’d never had.  

Ignis massaged his scalp and his eyes fluttered, another bolt of arousal shooting between his legs. There was no way Ignis hadn't noticed.

His hands curled into fists, one digging into the carpet, the other twisted into the fabric of Ignis's pants.

"I—Ignis—" he pleaded. He didn't even know what he was begging for. He felt overwhelmed, carried away by a tide of confusing emotions, yet warm and _ridiculously_ turned on. Ignis had become his only lifeline, the only one he could cling to and the only one who could help.

"Mm," Ignis hummed. Prompto cracked his eyes open to see him and caught the tail end of his tongue slipping back between his now-glistening lips. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

Ignis threaded his fingers through his hair, messing up his carefully styled locks completely, but Prompto didn't care at all. His eyes fell shut at the decadent sensation of being touched and caressed. He couldn't stop shivering.

"Does this feel good, Prompto?"

Another sharp lick of arousal, almost punishingly swift. "I— _ah,_ yeah. Yeah," Prompto managed.

"Tell me," Ignis ordered, voice a deep rumble. "Tell me how you feel."

"I—" Ignis placed a kiss at the crown of his head, and then another on his forehead. He peppered slow, warm kisses all over, his hand sweeping through blond locks, dotting them wherever he saw fit, seemingly at random.

He gave Prompto's arm a little shake with his other hand—a reminder.

For a moment, Prompto struggled to recall his own _name._ But then he remembered Ignis's question and realized that his name didn't matter, he didn’t have to remember that; he just needed to answer, give Ignis what he wanted. He could do that.

"It’s good. So good," he muttered. His fists tightened with every kiss Ignis rained down on him and he grew tense, feeling the pressure building. Ignis's hand lifted from his arm and panic dropped the bottom out of his stomach. "Don't—don't stop," he gasped.

"I'm not, darling," Ignis assured him. His touch came back on his shoulder, tracing over his neck and running across the front of his chest, tracing his clavicle.

"If only you could see yourself," Ignis said. His palm flattened on his chest, covering his flushed skin in broad strokes. "You look magnificent."

Prompto's shoulder hiked up near his ear at the praise, his face and chest growing hotter. He was torn between begging Ignis to stop before he went to far, and begging him to never let go.

"Gorgeous," Ignis breathed, lips brushing his ear.

 _Oh, fuck._ He was so hard it _hurt._ He scrabbled for purchase, hand wrapping around Ignis' ankle.

Breath hitching, he managed, "Ig—Iggy—I—"

"I know, darling." The hand in his hair tightened, gripping a handful, and tugged Prompto's head to the side. "It's all right. Let go."

Ignis's hand slipped beneath his shirt, running down his overheated skin from chest to hip. At the same time, he dipped his head and trailed kisses the length of Prompto's neck.

The feeling of that heavy, warm arm against his chest, the fingers in his hair and those firm kisses on his neck—it was as if fireworks burst and Prompto was coming before he could prepare for it, mouth hanging open from the hitching gasps and cries that left him, hand tightening around Ignis's ankle as he shook in his hold.

Coming down felt like it took an eternity, but when he did, he slowly registered Ignis's warmth still around him, his hands back where they'd started on his shoulders, thumbs rubbing small circles.

Prompto...couldn't even _begin_ to process what had just happened. He felt boneless, utterly adrift—but in a good way, coasting on waves of contentment and satisfaction, warm and cared for and—treasured, almost.

A small eternity later he stirred, finally noticing that Ignis was speaking. It was nothing in particular, just little affectionate nothings and scattered praise, but he had probably been speaking for a while now, waiting for some acknowledgment from Prompto to signal his response.

"Back with me, darling?"

Prompto managed a nod. His voice had abandoned him. Possibly forever.

"Good." Another kiss fell on his temple. "You did so well, Prompto."

Pleasure washed over him at the praise, a slower burn than the electric feeling that coursed through him when Ignis was building him up, but no less addictive.

"I have to get up for a moment and I'd like for you to wait here. Can you do that for me, darling?"

Prompto frowned. Ignis leaving was the last thing he wanted, but...he also wanted to be good for him. He could show him he could be good. He could wait.

Prompto nodded and was rewarded with another kiss.

"I'll be right back."

Holding that promise close, Prompto tried not to feel completely devastated when Ignis moved, arms falling away and the steadying warmth of his chest abandoning him as he stood and stepped out from behind him.

Prompto crossed his arms and huddled in on himself, knowing it was ridiculous to feel so suddenly cold when the hotel room couldn't have been less than sixty-five degrees. But even still, without Ignis's touch he felt as if he'd been left in the middle of a blizzard in the heart of Gralea.

He drew his knees up, then wrinkled his nose at the slick feeling in his pants.

...Right. Clarity was starting to filter in, albeit at a glacial pace. He knew he should feel more embarrassed that he'd come in his underwear like a teenager (in front of _Ignis_ of all people), but he just...couldn't be bothered. It was a problem for tomorrow's Prompto.

A touch on his shoulder startled him, but he relaxed into it when it continued, recognizing Ignis's careful, confident touch as it brushed against his cheek and swept some of his hair off his face.

"You did so well waiting, Prompto, thank you."

So caught up in basking in the compliment, it took Prompto by surprise to suddenly be lifted. He wrapped his arms around Ignis's neck, relaxing despite himself in those arms.

The sound of running water became clearer with every step Ignis took, and then they were in the bathroom, steam rising from the half-filled tub—the sight almost decadent after so much time spent on the road.

Gently, as if he were something precious, Ignis set him down on the closed toilet seat and took a knee. His hand came up and cradled Prompto's cheek, thumb stroking the skin lightly.

"How do you feel?"

Prompto shrugged, meeting Ignis' eyes for a scant moment before looking away.

"Good," he answered honestly, voice quiet. "Tired."

"I'm sure," Ignis agreed. "We'll get you cleaned up, and then you can rest."

Prompto nodded and Ignis let his hand fall.

Ignis's hands hovered uncertainly for a moment, and then he sighed. He rose and, after dipping a hand in to test the temperature, cut off the water.

"Come, Prompto."

Undressing felt like an insurmountable challenge, but with Ignis's gentle prodding, he stripped. Ignis busied himself with the tub, adding a little bit of liquid soap and frothing the water. When Prompto finished, he stood smoothly out of the way, although he kept his gaze politely averted as Prompto sunk into the water. Not that Prompto cared even a little bit about propriety at the moment. Maybe in the morning, he'd appreciate the gesture.

A sigh left Prompto as the warm water lapped at his skin, bringing a new flush. Ignis sat at the edge of the tub and passed him a soapy cloth, already lathered and ready for him.

"There we are," he said quietly. "You're doing well, darling."

Ignis kept up a steady stream of praise, coaxing Prompto into movement every time he became particularly sluggish. A part of Prompto wished that _Ignis_ would do it, that he would reach over and touch him just one more time, but...that was greedy. The fact that it had happened at all was a miracle.

It helped some that even when his eyes slipped closed Prompto could feel Ignis watching him, something like calm, content approval radiating from him every time Prompto obeyed his simple orders. The cycle of commands and praise kept Prompto in that floaty, warm place, the one that kept reality from piercing through, that kept his usual companions of anxiety and doubt at arms-length.

It didn't take long for him to finish up, and once he was done Ignis allowed him to relax. As nice as it felt to soak, more than anything Prompto still craved that closeness, that earlier intimacy they'd shared.

But asking for more felt...impossible, for some reason. Instead, Prompto crossed his arms over the edge of the tub, just beside Ignis's hip, and rested his head there, eyes slipping closed against his will.

He was rewarded not a few seconds later, when Ignis ran his fingers through Prompto hair, by now thoroughly ruined and wet.

"How are you feeling now?"

Prompto hummed, keeping his eyes closed. He tilted his head to the side.

"Sleepy." His lips twitched upwards with another pass of Ignis's fingers through his hair. "Happy."

"Good."

After that, there was only quiet, the sound of the water lapping at the edges of the tub every time Prompto shifted, and the feeling of those long fingers stroking his head. Prompto felt boneless and untethered, as if the only thing that kept him grounded at all was Ignis's touch, falling upon him like the sweetest benediction.

Prompto had no idea how much time passed, minutes or hours, but eventually, the touch went away and he cracked open his eyes to see Ignis holding out a towel.

"I think it's past time for both of us to be abed."

Ignis left him once more to fetch him clean clothes, although the way he averted his eyes again made Prompto think he had another reason for leaving. He dried off quickly, the siren call of sleep only growing louder with each second he remained on his feet.

Towel held a little higher than his waist, Prompto cracked open the door warily. For the first time in what felt like hours, self-consciousness reared it's head as he scanned the area. Luckily, Ignis had placed some clothes—a soft t-shirt and a pair of boxers—just beside the door, and he scooped them up and ducked back inside quickly, sighing in relief when the door was shut.

Ignis wasn't shallow, he knew that, but...showing off his gross stretch marks wasn't high on his priority list. He'd lost enough dignity tonight.

When he left the bathroom fully this time, it was to find Ignis sitting on one of the beds, already changed into his sleep clothes. He looked up at Prompto's entrance and gave a small smile at the sight of him.

"Ready to sleep?"

Prompto nodded, although the movement felt stiff and awkward, the return of his lucidity not helping anything.

He just—didn't know what to _do_  now _._ Ignis seemed completely normal, like he hadn't just made Prompto come in his pants and practically _bathed_ him. He'd _never_ been intimate like that with someone before; was he supposed to follow Ignis's lead and just ignore it? Was Ignis waiting for him to say something about it? Would that be weird?

Biting his lip, Prompto shuffled forward with his head ducked. Before he got into his bed, he turned off the bedside table lamp that rested between them, feeling a little tension leave his shoulders as darkness covered them.

He turned to his bed, but paused, looking at the clean, immaculate covers. He glanced behind him.

Ignis was watching him, one leg stretched out the length of the bed, the other pulled up with his elbow resting on it. At Prompto's look, he smiled again.

"Was there something you wanted to ask?"

Prompto swallowed, then nodded. But it was dark, and he wasn't sure Ignis could see, and he realized he had to speak up.

Shyly, rubbing his arm, Prompto faced Ignis's bed and took one tiny, tentative step towards him.

"I..." All courage seemed to desert him, his face burning with embarrassment, but Ignis hadn't laughed at him yet. If this night was all he would get, wouldn't it be foolish not to make it worthwhile?

"Can I...can we sleep in the same bed?" Prompto glanced at him, but he couldn't make out a specific expression in the dark. The not-knowing made his heart jack-rabbit against his chest. "Is...is that okay?"

"Of course it is," Ignis said, voice warm and affectionate. Prompto could hear the slight rustle of fabric as he moved and the soft sound of his glasses being set on the little bedside table.

Ignis turned down the covers and gestured with one hand held out. "Come."

Relieved and grateful, Prompto didn't have to be told twice. He slipped beneath the blankets and could feel Ignis do the same beside him. When he felt Ignis was settled, he wasted no time scooting closer, close enough that Ignis got the hint and wrapped his arms around him, holding Prompto against his chest.

"Comfortable?"

Prompto pressed closer, feeling tears prick his eyes, he was so happy and thankful that Ignis was willing to still indulge him even this much. The tension he carried before washed away and he made a concentrated effort to push away the nagging worries and questions that bubbled up in his mind, that wanted him to ruin this moment with fear and anxiety.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would deal. Tonight was too precious to waste on fear.

"Y-yeah. Thanks."

Ignis pressed a light kiss to the top of his head just before Prompto slipped into unconsciousness.

"The pleasure is mine."

**Author's Note:**

> Will I write more in this little universe? Maybe! I definitely have some ideas...
> 
> Title from [One Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VFDYHJYtsI).


End file.
